When Wishing Is No Longer Enough
by EphiePossum
Summary: She won...But did she really? Its been two years since she said the words. Jareth has turned colder and Sarah has fallen into darkness. When her life is about to end, can she be saved by her knight in shining armor? Warnings for abuse; drug abuse; adult situations. Sarah is 18 in this story.


Author's Note: This was a story I had begun to write over 7 years ago but never finished. I am unable to log back into that account so have re-written it. Things have changed over the past 7 years so my writing style has changed slightly. Please read and review - I would really appreciate any constructive feedback you are willing to provide.  
I do not have a beta - if anyone is interested, please let me know. I would love the advice.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

It was late, he was tired, and he was cold. He walked into the Goblin City and materialised to his chambers. He looked around his room and finally felt the freedom to breathe. This was his sacred space, his personal sanctuary. Leaning against the closed wooden doors he looked at his chamber. It was large with sand-stone walls and floors. The walls were draped floor to ceiling with rich dark green curtains with white flowing curtains lining them. They covered the windows that showed the Labyrinth. His Labyrinth.

In the centre of the room was a large bear skin rug. It looked real, felt real, but it was not. He never believed in killing for pleasure. His bed was a large four-poster with dark blue silk sheets with a small mountain of silk pillows. His eyes lingered on the pillows. It was almost inviting. At night however, it was a different scene. He would vanish the pillows except for one and while his bed could accommodate four people with ease, he found himself clutching his pillow in sleep and lying near the very edge. Sleep no longer came easily to him. Nothing did.

His eyes moved to the large mahogany desk at the end of the room. It had been past down from his grandfather several generations back. Each generation had marked an engraving. A large engraving of the Labyrinth was featured on one side, as were the goblins, and great wars once battled over the ownership of the land. Spells were also hidden within the engravings and it held many dark secrets that even he had never been able to uncover. When the desk was given to him he was told that only when its power was needed would the ancient magic reveal itself for the being in need to use. So far, in his over 600 years, the current owner had had no need to call upon it.

He walked towards the desk, letting his mind wander as he did so. As he ran his gloved hand over the various engravings he let a small smile grace his face. So many things had changed during the years of his reign but the one thing that had remained a solid feature was his desk.

Shaking his head he went to the cabinet by the wall and poured a glass of rich amber liquid into a crystal tumbler. He walked to his curtain covered windows and opened them revealing glass doors. He pushed them open and walked out onto the balcony that overlooked his Labyrinth. He rested his glass on the sandstone railing and hung his head. It had been three years since that fateful night. She was never meant to win. She was meant to fail. Just like they all do. But she was different, she had always been different. She had won.

The Labyrinth was becoming neglected; he no longer had the strength or the will to keep its beauty alive. Defeat had changed him, turning him almost into a shell of the powerful and feared king he once had been. His golden hair fell limp at his shoulders and his eyes had become dark, almost grey. There was a hole in him now that he knew could not be healed, one that had been ripped when she said the words.

He loved her. Love could be the destroyer of lives or it could be the beginning of a perfect kingdom. He sighed, in over several generations, no king or queen had ever lost. But now they had. He had failed. He lifted his head to look at the pale white moon before the dark clouds took away the light.

The rain began to fall.

Jareth had lost.

* * *

Sarah left at the end of her lecture and walked to wait for the train to take her home from college. She was exhausted, the day had been long. The stress of exams lingered like a heavy shadow on her shoulders. She needed a 'pick-me-up' and she knew the perfect thing.

She texted her 'friend' to see if he had time to see her and as usual he told her that he would wait for her at the station. She put away her phone and looked out the window as the train sped through the suburbs. The train was full of fellow students, children laughing, businessmen talking and women mobile games being played Sarah closed her eyes and blocked out the noises and let counted the stops until she arrived. When she walked out of the station she saw him standing there. Her 'friend' was waiting for her just like he promised.

Sarah followed him home, walking behind him. He did not let her walk by his side; she was to follow while he led. Ten minutes later he took a right turn into one of the streets and walked up to his house, unlocked the door and walked in. He left the door open, knowing she would follow. And just like the mindless, she did.

Sarah walked through the entrance and the door slammed behind her. In an instant she was pushed up against the door with her arms pinned at her side. His mouth attacked hers in a brutal kiss – not one of love but one of dominance. He pushed his body against hers and she knew not to fight. Fighting only made it worse. Pulling back from her, she nearly stumbled but was pulled then shoved violently into the next room. She knew what he wanted; he never needed to ask anymore, she gave it willingly. She was never forced, she needed his power, needed his medicine. Sarah dropped to the floor and let her hands reach to his trousers. She kept her eyes on him the entire time.

When it was over he leaned down and laid a hand on her head and told her to stay. She heard him walk into the next room and return with a brown bag. He handed it to her and she looked inside. There were three small clear bags, two with grass and one with powder. There was also one tablet. This was new. She looked at him and tilted her head. He lifted his eyebrow and she understood why he had given it to her. She was his guinea pig – it didn't bother her.

Her 'friend' walked into his kitchen and took a beer out of the fridge. He walked into his living room but stopped on his way, looking back into the bedroom. Realising she was still there, his eyes grew dark.

"Did I tell you to stay? Get. Out." The words were almost whispered but the warning in them was clear.

Sarah stood, collected her back and left. She walked home, trapped in her own thoughts and shook herself when she realised she was now home. The twenty minute walk was over in seconds when she let her mind wander.

Unlocking the door and walking up the stairs to her room, she listened for any signs of life. Everything was silent, she was alone. Walking into her room, she closed the door and walked over to her desk. Sitting down she pulled out the brown bag and took out the small bag of white powder. She emptied a quarter of the bag onto her almost empty desk and used her college ID card to bring it into a straight line. Taking the substance, she leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the drug take over. It took away almost all her troubles, all her pain and stress. She felt it running through her veins, making her feel light, almost like she was floating. It was the only thing that helped.

Opening her eyes, not knowing how much time had passed, she cleaned her desk and card and put the little bag back into the paper back and moved her desk forward to reveal her little hidey-hole in the wall her where she placed the bag. She moved the desk back and looked at herself in the mirror before her.

The thoughts turned to him. They always did.

"I should be happy. I won. I _won_." Sarah sighed to herself and stared into the mirror, lost in thought. Just like a thousand times in before she realised her mistake. She had never won. She lost him when she said the words.

Sarah stood and walked to her bed, grabbing the old nightie of the bed and changed before collapsing. A tear escaped her eye as she felt the weight returned to her shoulders.

"Jareth, what have I done?"

Sarah lay there broken and scarred, awaiting the painful pleasure of unconsciousness.

Just like every night, it was a long time coming. Until tonight that is.

Tonight was different.

Tonight she said his name.


End file.
